The Mysterious F
by Sleek Ink
Summary: A secret admirer? An anonymous friend? Hermione has been receiving secret letters from a certain Mysterious F. (Fleurmione fanfic. COMPLETE!)
1. Chapter 1

**Semi AU: Hermione's and Fleur's paths have never crossed until now. **

**Summary: A secret admirer? An anonymous friend? Hermione has been receiving secret letters from a certain Mysterious F. (Fleurmione fanfic. Don't Like Fleur/Hermione? Go Away.)**

**A/N: This is my Valentines treat to all my dear readers and reviewers. Thank you for giving my writing a sense of purpose again. This is meant to be a two-chapter drabble. Something short to sweeten your day!**

* * *

**The Mysterious F**

By Sleek Ink

**1**

The first note wasn't anything bizarre. Except that it was anyonymous. And the author probably left it for no one in particular.

It was just a slip of parchment tucked in between the pages of 'Northern Lights', a muggle novel which Hermione was fond of reading when she wanted to escape the demands of wizarding academia for a bit. It was ironic actually. Her diversion from magic came in the form of muggle's notions of magic. She found these fantasy novels quite rousing. It brought out magic's scintillating fumes filled with quests and mysteries. A far cry from the university's take on it as an academic discipline stripped dry of wonder. And this was the part that Hermione liked about the novels most. The puzzles. The questions that challenge her thinking to delve deeper beyond the surface.

So it was no surprise that the note immediately captivated her attention. It was written in a flowing, elegant script in indigo ink, woven into a sentence. A question.

_Do you think animal daemons are evil? Or could they simply be Patronuses? _

_-F._

She wondered who would randomly leave a note like this. As far as she knew, no other student showed any interest in reading muggle fantasy novels like she did. Hermione peered at the other occupants of the library.

They were all immersed in their own worlds, ensconced inside reading nooks , study desks lined by low, wooden partitions. The library was the size of two, cavernous cathedrals and is renowned for being one of the largest libraries in the wizarding world. Floor to ceiling shelves loomed like skyscrapers, housing a plethora of magical knowledge which many a wizard would travel far for to peruse the secrets pressed between the pages. And at this university, every student valued the privilege of learning. _Well, most everyone._

The delicate features of the brunette fluttered into a scowl when she spied a platinum blonde woman to her far right. She was using four books, stacked upon each other as a pillow. Atop the books were slender arms, criss-crossed to cradle a slumbering face. Blissfully shut eyes were fringed with long lashes of dark ochre, casting a watercolour shadow on the gentle slope of her fair cheeks.

_Hmp._ Hermione inwardly huffed. Fleur Delacour. She'd recognise those silvery locks anywhere. She was a part Veela and some sort of a model for a witch's fashion magazine and was easily the most sought after witch at school. She might be beautiful, but her face was ruining artifacts of knowledge that took years to preserve. Hermione fought the urge to poke the slumbering blonde to make her shriek. That will definitely earn the ire of the librarian.

Hermione shook her head. Well, this is just a first warning. _Maybe the next time I see her do this, she will definitely be sorry. Besides, there is an interesting question from a mysterious F that awaits a response._

Scrunching her forehead in concentration, Hermione proceeded to pen her reply at the back of the parchment, wedged it between the pages of the book and returned it on the shelf.

* * *

**.**

**2**

Dear H,

I agree that Patronuses could be part of our subconscious, a reflection of who we are at our bravest, most positive state. But the subconscious also has a negative state, and one might wonder if you thought of the most ghastly, negative memory, would it conjure an anti-Patronus? Just a thought really. Anyway, I find it amusing that these muggle novels reinforce evidence that magic exists. That magic _is_ matter. A thought that undergoes a process to manifest itself into reality.

By the way, this parchment is enchanted. Its pair is with me. So you don't need to put it back inside the book. Whatever you write here, will reflect in mine. What other books are you interested in?

-F

Dear F,

It is rather intriguing isn't it? But there are muggle studies that show how human thoughts affect the tiniest particles at the quantum level. I wouldn't be surprised if they come to understand and eventually wield magic in their own way. After all, what makes us different from muggles are not magical blood (as some of us are muggle-borns), but skill and knowledge. We have learned to fuel and direct our thoughts into a formula, a spell, to create magic. By the way, I read somewhere of a wizard who accidentally conjured an anti-Patronus, I think that was how the first Dementor was made. You should read the work of Sam Baggins on this one.

I am currently engrossed in the book by Patrick Rothfuss, 'The Name of the Wind'. Have you read it? What books are you reading now?

-H

P.S.

Thank you for the parchment. Did you use a Protean Charm or something similar?

* * *

**. **

**3**

And so the friendship between H and F began on parchment and ink.

They feverishly wrote back and forth. Firing questions. Launching answers. A volley of ideas and musings, even exchanging a stray joke or two. Though they have never talked about anything personal, Hermione felt a certain something forming. A curl. A loop. A tenuous link that made her feel a little less lonely.

Hermione's hands would shiver with a thrill whenever she sees the indigo ink bloom in an elegant script across the parchment. Though all of their letters were wiped away after being read by the other, Hermione made it a point to carefully remember every reply made by the mysterious F. It was refreshing to find another person, an intriguing mind who shared the same curiosity and hunger.

Ever since she started studying at the university, she only made a few acquaintances. Having been branded as 'One of the Golden Trio' has made peers keep her at an arm's length. Though she appreciated the respectful regard, it was the same cordial distance given to their professors.

The brunette witch sighed. She missed her friends _so_ much. Harry and Ron. Ginny, Luna…all of the students she grew up with who knew her before she was Hermione Granger, Harry Potter's friend who helped defeat Voldemort. Heck, after being given too many polite smiles and inane nods, she even missed the dripping disdain of Draco Malfoy.

A sudden flash of silver caught Hermione's attention.

She saw the approach of a blonde woman whose graceful sway of the hips and long-legged, catwalk strut drew every eye and captured every breath of most living beings in the Dining Hall. Saunter saunter. Forward. Closer. And before she knew it those crystalline blue eyes and blindingly pristine smile stepped directly into Hermione's nonplussed gaze.

'Is zis seat taken?' The deeply feminine voice slid against Hermione's ears like cool silk.

'Well, obviously it is occupied by a throng of people.' Hermione groused as she skewered a piece of chicken with a fork. If Fleur was here, it meant her flock of fans won't be too far away. And she didn't quite fancy being flanked by people who would titter with Fleur's every move. Or worse, gab about fashion, parties, celebrity scandals and all the other things she overheard Fleur's clique talk about.

Unperturbed, the blonde took the seat across Hermione and murmured her order to the empty plate before her. Black coffee, butter croissants and a cheese omelet appeared. With the grace of a queen, the blonde lifted her cutlery and began making precise slices and chewed thoughtfully in tiny bites.

Fleur felt the intensity of Hermione's frown as she ate.

'Are you always zis sunny? Or have you just decided to judge me as bad company?' The blonde smirked at the momentary surprise flaring on Hermione's face.

_Judging? I'm not. Well maybe. It's just that…_

'How come you are not sitting with your fan club?' Hermione's tone made it sound more like an accusation than a question.

Fleur set her cutlery down and gave Hermione her full attention.

'Well, believe it or not Mademoiselle Granger, I came here to get to know you a bit better. Is zat a crime?'

'Umm..' Hermione rifled through her thoughts. She didn't know if having Fleur for company is offensive or not. She knew she was being a tad irascible. Now that she comes to think of it, she didn't know why she felt this way in the first place. 'I'm sorry. I just…it has been a while since someone sought my company. And you are a senior who usually ate with a certain clique. You just caught me off guard.'

'Maybe you shouldn't be so guarded then.'

The blonde's voice was gentle. As whisper-soft as the fingers that Hermione felt was easing away the tension from her knitted brows.

Fleur Delacour, a student she barely exchanged any word with, was touching her forehead right in the middle of a very crowded Dining Hall. _How…odd. Yet not at all unpleasant. _Hermione felt the corners of her lips lift a fraction.

'See? When you stop frowning, uzzer people won't be so scared to approach you, ma belle.' The blonde witch said as she withdrew her hand.

_Belle. That meant beautiful, right? No. It must be just one of those everyday endearments the French casually toss out. Wait, what does she mean about my frowning? _

'Um, so you are saying I scare people away?'

'I'm saying zat smiling suits you more. It brings out ze light in your eyes.'

Fleur said it with such raw sincerity Hermione almost believed her. Almost. She still didn't answer her question directly, and Hermione didn't like being dodged. But before she could think of an appropriate response, Fleur suddenly leaned forward and stilled all of her thoughts with those incandescent blue eyes.

There was so much sunlight in that gaze Hermione couldn't help but suffused with soft warmth.

'Ermione. There is zis Dueling Dance ze senior class is hosting zis Saturday. It would be a pleasure if you can come as my partner.'

Hermione sputtered on her pumpkin juice.

'Wha-t?!' She choked. For someone so smart, Hermione couldn't quite grasp the exact meaning of _partner_.

Without missing a beat, Fleur swept off her seat and was beside Hermione in a second. Her right hand patted the brunette's back to help clear her throat while her other hand was swiftly brushing down a dry napkin against the younger witch's soaked collar.

''Ere's ze invitation. I'll meet you at ze entrance of the Dining 'all by 8 o'clock. I'm Fleur Delacour by the way. In case you didn't catch my name.' Fleur said as she considered Hermione dry enough and stepped away to give the brunette space.

'I know who you are.' Hermione said, glad that her voice was steady even if her pulse was not.

'Actually 'Ermione, you don't.'

And with that Fleur left, leaving Hermione with an ivory envelope and a dusky flush that blossomed on her pale cheeks.

**TBC (One more chapter and we're done! If you like it, review it. Thanks!)**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Mysterious F **

By Sleek Ink

**A/N: **On the correspondence between H and F, Hermione's are in italics, F's in boldface The three dots (…) are the longer pauses in between. What was initially a 1,000 word update almost reached 4,000. I couldn't help myself. Enjoy!

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**4**

_Hey F, are you awake?_

…

**Mmm, not really. Unless my polyjuiced clone is writing this while I'm asleep.**

_Funny. Okay, go back to sleep. Sorry I bothered you._

**Well, I am awake ****_now_****. Do you want to talk? I mean, write?**

_I wanted to ask you something._

_…_

**Do I have to write that I am nodding for you to go on?**

_Sigh. You're just too adorable sometimes. Wait..did I just.._

**Relax, H. Your secret of finding me adorable is safe with me.**

…

**H? Hearth to H, hello? **

**Hiding in horrendous heaps of humiliation?**

**See what I did there… I'm all H just for you. Mind you, it is a hard letter for me toform in my mouth. Years of studying to improve my English finally paid off.**

_I like you._

_Like, ferociously, fervidly, frantically fleeing-my-sanity now, like you._

…

**I like you too, H.**

**A lot. Like a tidal wave that capsizes all thought and logic.**

…

_The thing I wanted to ask. Is. Do you… want to meet, sometime? Doesn't have to be a date. Well it could be if you want._

**Aren't you dating someone? **

_No. Well there's this girl. Well, woman, who I am supposed to date this Saturday. I didn't even say yes. She just assumed. A bit conceited of her really. _

**Well, are you going anyway? Do you like her?**

_Honestly? She intrigues me. She's… gorgeous. Bloody, drop dead trample-on-my-heterosexuality gorgeous. And surprisingly less superficial than I thought. I don't even know if I am into girls but this woman makes me nervous._

**Hmm. What is the name of this woman? Can I hex her? I don't like competition.**

_Oh, F. I can talk to you so easily. But I'm not sure if I can be as open with her. _

**But I'm also a girl. Would that be a problem?**

…

**H?**

_Yes? I mean no…not a problem. I just thought. Well now that I think of it, you didn't sound like a guy in the first place. Well, I'm a girl too. In case it matters to you._

**No, it doesn't matter, H. No matter what gender you are, I still like you.**

_So.. erm.. you still want to meet me?_

**How about you date this other girl first. See if you like her. Whatever happens, I'll still be your friend. And yes, we are bound to meet anyway. Sooner or later.**

_Okay sooner, I hope. _

_Thank you, F. You are a good friend._

**Au revoir, H.**

* * *

**. **

**5**

'In behalf of the senior class,

I welcome you to first Dueling Dance of The Guild University!

Time to polish your wands (No, not _that_ wand! Georgie!). Sharpen thy wits.

Get ready to spar and hold on to your tits.

(Wait, I didn't write this script!)'

Collective guffaws erupted from the crowd and somebody made a shrill wolf-whistle as Lee Jordan, the ceremony master of the dance, took a good-natured bow from the centre stage.

'Alright folks. You have fifteen minutes to find your partner. If you don't have one, I offer my matchmaking service for a minimal fee. Trust me, you will thank me later.' Lee waggled his brows suggestively to some stragglers who congregated near the refreshment table.

Hermione urgently scanned the crowded hall for a sliver of that silvery mane. She nervously tucked the errant locks of her loosely braided hair behind her ear. She surreptitiously readjusted the straps of her ruby red, floaty summer dress. The invitation said 'dressy casual' which Hermione interpreted as something she can wear for dancing and dueling, something that would not constrict movement.

_And by God, look at her move._ The brunette thought as she finally spotted Fleur Delacour. Her platinum tresses were in a half-braid, cascading past her shoulders like a royal silk cape. She was wearing an off-shoulder, form-fitting midnight blue dress with a thin slit racing up her mid thigh. Each step she took towards Hermione gave an enticing glimpse of tanned and toned calves. Her hips swayed like a pendulum, mesmerising, hypnotising the younger witch into incoherence.

Half of the crowd paused as they devoured the sight of the part Veela. But Fleur was completely oblivious, her eyes in pursuit of only one person in the crowd.

'Salut.' Fleur lips curved into a smile as she stopped in front of Hermione. Her sapphire gaze raked over Hermione's form languidly. 'Tu es la plus belle fille. You are a sight to behold, 'Ermione.'

For the life of her, the younger witch couldn't form a single sentence in reply.

_Anytime now Granger. Keep gawking like a pubescent boy and you will have to relinquish your title of being the brightest witch of your age. _

'Umm…Hi, Fleur. You look…wow.' Hermione uttered, looking positively gobsmacked.

_Great going Granger. A three-lettered _wow _isn't an apt adjective for such a sublime visage._

Fleur's shoulders quaked as she bit back a chuckle. Her eyes pranced merrily at the younger witch's awkwardness. _Très adorable_.

'Shall we?' Fleur offered her right hand which Hermione took, thankfully, without shaking.

The blonde led her to the dance floor, where several couples were already standing together. Some were holding hands, some were animatedly chatting, and some have dropped all pretense of small talk and were quite occupied in some lip-locked dialogue.

Hermione noticed that there were just as many pairs of boys and girls as there were pairs of the same sex. This was just a duel after all, right? Just a friendly sparring. That doesn't mean she and Fleur are on a date. Right?

'Relax, 'Ermione. Don't think too much.'

Hermione felt the soft pads of Fleur's fingers caressing her temples, tucking away wisps of escaped locks behind her ear. Fleur's eyes cradled her in an intense gaze, as if she is the most exquisite thing in the whole world.

Her heart squeaked.

_That's it. I think I am gay for Fleur. I am gay for that smile… those depths of blue… the delicate contours those lips…I wonder if they are as pillow soft as they seem. Wait, I don't even know her. Why am I thinking of snogging her?_

'Alright witches and wizards.' The magically magnified voice of Lee Jordan jolted Hermione from her reverie. 'Five steps _away_ from your partners please. Ready thy wands.'

Hermione liberated her wand from a holster wrapped around her inner thigh. She grinned as she caught Fleur stealing a stealthy glance at her legs.

She raised an inquisitive brow at the wand-less Fleur.

The blonde smirked in response. Never breaking eye contact with Hermione, she slowly dipped her hand into her chest-hugging bodice, just underneath the hint of cleavage.

Hermione gaped when the top swells of Fleur's breasts were briefly exposed. Readjusting her bodice, the blonde witch retrieved what looked like a hairpin. With a flick of her wrist, Fleur transformed the pin into a ten-inch wand.

If Fleur's strategy was to distract her, it was definitely working.

'Ready everyone? Remember, no hexes or curses. Only light charms are allowed. Senior students are on patrol should you need assistance.

Let the dalliance of hearts, the duel of minds, _begin!_'

A deep thrumming bass with a fast percussive beat throbbed inside the walls and vibrated on the floor. Feet shifted and shuffled, marching in time with the beat. Students began to circle around their dueling partners. Calculating. Deliberating. Searching for an entry.

Hermione felt her adrenalin jump with the music. Her keen chestnut eyes alight with nervous excitement as she held Fleur's azure gaze. The rise and fall of their chests slipped into the same rhythm. She saw Fleur make an imperceptible nod, challenging her to make the first move.

Testing the waters, the younger witch stabbed her wand forward like a sword and shot a spear of fire towards the blonde.

Light on her feet, Fleur whirled to let the spear pass behind her. With a deft twist of her wand, she transformed the spear into bowling ball-sized comet and hurled it back towards Hermione.

Stunned, Hermione dropped to her knees and flattened herself against the floor to let the comet woosh pass her body. Immense heat briefly licked her back.

Before it could collide with anyone, Fleur pointed her wand at the comet and transfigured it into a large, crumpled paper ball that dropped harmlessly to the floor.

_Damn, she's good._ Hermione thought with trepidation as she got back to her feet.

Swishing her wand high into the air, Hermione unleashed a ribbon of water and let it coil around Fleur's body.

Before the spell had a chance to tighten its hold, Fleur slashed her wand down in blinding speed, instantly freezing the water into a glacial thread. With a quick jab of her wand, she shattered the ice into powdery shards and evaporated them into thin air.

Trying to cover her surprise at how Fleur was skillfully disarming her, Hermione struck her wand down to the floor. A glossy black substance poured from Hermione's wand tip and trickled fast to where Fleur was standing.

Startled blue eyes stared at the black goo that swallowed her feet, making her limbs immobile and glued to the floor. _An extra sticky charm, eh? We'll see about zat._ Fleur's brows furrowed in concentration as she lanced her wand into the air, swirling to conjure a figure-eight that spread wide like an exploding firework.

Hermione was momentarily entranced by the different coloured dancing flames, having never seen such a spell before and not knowing what it was supposed to accomplish.

Satisfied at having her opponent transfixed, Fleur flung the fiery loops to the floor, it descended like a net, capturing Hermione in its flickering light. Surprisingly, the fiery flames felt like an embrace of a cool breeze. Before she could process what was happening, Hermione was caught by an almighty gust of wind. Weightless as paper, she sailed around the room, her vision a whirling blur.

_What in the world.._

When everything was steady again, the younger witch stood as a disheveled mess. Her hair was all over her face, the right strap of her dress slipped just below the crook of her shoulder, her skirt slightly askew. Thankfully all the pertinent parts of her were still fully covered.

_But now my feet are fully covered in thick black goo. Wait, how did that happen? I was standing there and she was here. She switched our positions?_

Chestnut eyes snapped back towards mirthful sapphires. A smug smile graced Fleur's features. Her wand lazily trained on Hermione, preparing for her next move.

Catching her breath, Hermione fixed her straps and ran her hands through her hair to tame back her bushy locks. She muttered the counter spell and siphoned the black substance back into her wand.

The two witches carefully observed each other's expression. Wands pointed. Pulses raced. Lips quirked into a grin, mirroring on each other's faces. Are they ready for another round? Will one finally outdo the other?

Their gazes locked and blazed with understanding. Theirs is an endless dance. They have found an equal, an evenly matched partner they could push and challenge further without breaking.

Deciding it was time to move on, Hermione rested her wand across her chest and bowed her head down towards Fleur. 'I yield.'

'I yield as well,' Fleur murmured as she inclined her head towards the brunette.

'Delacour and Granger yields,' Lee Jordan interjected, suddenly appearing out of nowhere beside Fleur.

A smattering of applause punctuated Lee's announcement. So absorbed were they in their duel, the witches didn't notice the small audience that were spellbound by their performance. Hermione scanned the dance floor, other pairs were still engaged in firing spells, but most of them were merely exchanging a kaleidoscope of sparks. A pair of boys were groveling on the floor, tears leaked from their eyes as they bent over with uncontrollable laughter.

'The Infinitum Chortle Jinx. Warned them that only charms were allowed. We decided to let them carry on the whole night as punishment,' Lee commented as he offered both his arms to Fleur and Hermione. 'Ladies, allow me to escort you to the next level of the Dueling Dance!'

* * *

.

**6**

They Apparated to the sprawling gardens outside the hall. Garlands of winking fairy lights hovered above, a constellation that emitted a soft glow on the landscaped foliage below. The aroma of roses and freshly cut grass filled the air. Dulcet notes of violins and piano coalesced and floated into their ears. Pairs of students were twirling and waltzing, while others simply swayed to the music wrapped in each other's arms. Gazebos scattered about the garden, their thatched roofs and marbled columns were adorned with luminous mauve roses and crawling jade vines. Hermione could see couples in each gazebo, some were quietly talking with a drink in hand and some were hidden from view, casting silhouettes on the ground that merged into one.

'This is where I leave you two lovely ladies. Try not to have _too_ much fun without me.' Lee grinned slyly before he made an exaggerated bow and Disapparated with a faint pop.

Without the blaring bass, the chatter of the crowd, or the adrenalin that raced in her veins during the duel, Hermione suddenly became acutely aware of Fleur's presence beside her. She closed her eyes and took a breath, basking in Fleur's scent of almonds and sunlit meadows. She turned nervously towards the taller witch and hoped her inner Gryffindor would not fail her.

'Fleur, do you… want to dance?' Her heart rammed into her chest as the blonde observed her face closely, an enigmatic smile played across those curvy lips.

'Mmm…do you mind if we, per'aps, catch our breath first and 'ave a drink? I am rather thirsty after ze duel.'

'Right. Of course,' Hermione said trying to hide her disappointment. _Of course why would Fleur seize the chance of wrapping her arms around you? You were practically attacking each other a few minutes ago._

They walked side by side in silence. Though on the outside she was a picture of solemn composure, Hermione's mind was landmine combusting with a thousand thoughts.

'Over 'ere, 'Ermione.' Fleur led them towards a secluded gazebo.

There was a small round table at the centre where two bottles of wine were submerged inside a bucket of ice. A platter of hors d'oeuvres sat beside two slim wine glasses. With a lazy wave of Fleur's wand, the glasses filled with bubbling amber wine and floated towards them.

Fleur settled herself on the flat, marbled railing of the gazebo, patting the empty space beside her. Her grin widened when Hermione sat close, the tops of their knees almost grazing.

'To you ma belle, for almost ruining my shoes with ze most powerful sticky charm I have ever seen,' Fleur's eyes sparkled merrily as she raised her glass.

'And to you Fleur, for consistently throwing back at me every spell I could muster. And almost roasting my back with that ball of fire.' Hermione clinked her glass with Fleur's and took a sip of the sweet, fruity wine.

'You were absolutely brilliant, y'know.' Hermione enthused. 'I had no idea.'

'You had no idea zat I 'ave a mind behind ze pretty face?' Fleur's lighthearted tone did not quite conceal the flash of irritation in her eyes.

'I didn't mean it that way.' Hermione rushed in to explain. She settled down her wine glass and lightly brushed Fleur's fingers with her own. 'I wasn't trying to insult you, Fleur. I was honestly complimenting you.'

Fleur sighed. She gently twined their fingers together before the brunette could pull away.

'It's okay, 'Ermione. I get… sensitive about zis things. Je suis désolée.' Fleur ran her thumb tenderly across the sensitive skin between Hermione's knuckles. The brunette felt her flesh tingle at the simple contact. Tentatively, she skimmed her index finger across the soft terrain of Fleur's palm. Both women visibly calmed, relishing the comfort in each other's touch.

'Must be refreshing to get praised for what you work 'ard for. And not because of simply 'aving ze fortune of being passed down ze Veela genes. Not zat I'm complaining, I am quite fond of looking good…'

Hermione pointedly rolled her eyes and resisted the urge of tossing her wine over Fleur's head. 'Gah… just when I thought you weren't as vain as I thought. You say something that totally un-redeems yourself.'

Fleur's deep throaty chuckle warmed Hermione's insides.

'Yes, being physically bestowed 'as its advantages. But I admire you more, 'Ermione. Because you are quietly beautiful. Your molten chocolate eyes…so alive, always burning with ideas. You don't ask for the spotlight, you don't need it. You have a light zat is all your own.

'You don't notice ze admiring stares because you are just too 'appily tucked away in a corner, thinking, solving a problem, reading Northern Lights and a ton of uzzer books zat capture zat brilliant mind of yours.'

A big fat clue fell with a loud thunk in Hermione's brain, slicing through the fuzzy fog of being the object of Fleur's praise.

'Wait…' Hermione's heart raced in jagged anticipation. Here is a puzzle she had long thought about. A mystery she agonized over day and night. A question that she thought wouldn't be answered anytime soon, certainly not in the form of the person sitting beside her. 'How come you know I was reading that book? Were you stalking me?'

'Well, according to you, zat would make me your _adorable, drop dead gorgeous_ stalker. Wouldn't it?'

All colour fled Hermione's face. Her jaw unhinged. Her mind rabidly processed all the words Fleur just said.

_No. Fucking. Way._ _I told her so many things. My absurd dreams.. my secret thoughts. The thoughts I have of _her and F_. And she and F are the _same_ person?_

Hermione palms went cold. She swiftly snatched back her hand from Fleur and stood away from her.

'Oh God…oh no…it is you? All this time you knew who I am and I never knew who you are?' Hermione was aghast at the grave injustice. 'You let me blab on and on about you. Why couldn't you just have told me right away?!'

The part Veela looked like she was struck by thunder. Her face was pale. Her mouth mute. But her azure gaze tried to convey all the things she couldn't say. _But you need to say it. You owe her that._

Fleur got to her feet and raised her hands as a gesture of surrender. 'Ma belle. I mean no 'arm. It is not my intention to 'urt you I am sorry. Will you let me explain?'

Sharp chestnut eyes regarded Fleur warily. Her arms crossed against her chest like a fort, shielding from an attack. But after a few full minutes of silence, Hermione finally gave a small nod.

Taking a calming breath, Fleur took a step closer towards Hermione. 'For weeks, I noticed you in ze library. You were reading ze muggle novel which I have read many times before. Except for my younger sister, I thought no uzzer witch or wizard enjoyed those. So when I saw you, completely lost and absorbed in zat book, I was surprised. And then it struck me how obviously yet obliviously attractive you are. I knew I have to find a way to meet you.'

Despite herself, Hermione found her lips twitching into a reluctant grin. 'I have to say to say, the question in the parchment was a nice touch.'

A glimmer of hope flickered in Fleur's eyes. Glad that Hermione wasn't in a defensive stance anymore, she pressed on. 'I knew if I approached you the usual way, there was a chance that you would've dismissed me as just a daft bimbo or a predator Veela looking for her next conquest.'

'Well, wouldn't you fall into the latter category then?' Hermione teased, unconsciously shuffling closer to the blonde.

'It wasn't so much of a conquest, but more of an…expedition. I wanted to take my time in discovering you and let you leisurely discover me, without ze distraction of physical attraction. Because believe me, once I allow myself to pursue you with all my Veela instincts on full throttle, my thrall will grip us both and we would be mindlessly fucking each uzzer every single day without a decent conversation between us.'

Hermione's train of thought careened at a sudden halt at the two words: _mindlessly fucking_. Her and Fleur's limbs entwined, curves on curves, satin skin sliding against satin skin. Tendrils of silky platinum covering her face as Fleur blanketed her with honeyed kisses, trailing down her-

'Earth to 'Ermione, 'ello?' Fleur snapped her fingers in front of the brunette's face.

The younger witch's dazed eyes blinked rapidly before clearing from its stupor. 'I'm sorry… I just got caught up in my train of thought.'

'So you are not mad anymore?' Fleur regarded Hermione with cobalt eyes, darkened by desire, tinged with tenderness.

'No, I… understand now why you didn't tell me right away who you were. A bit of relief actually. The adorable, smart person my mind is drawn to is actually the same person I'm hopelessly, physically attracted to.' Hermione confessed, a dusky flush dawning on her cheeks.

'Good. Now we can start zis again properly.' Fleur's hands sought Hermione's, their fingers interlacing in their own accord. 'Hi, I'm Fleur Delacour, known as _ma sœur gênant_ to my little sister and as F to ma belle 'Ermione.'

'Pleasure.' Hermione couldn't contain the elated grin from illuminating her eyes. 'I'm Hermione Granger, known to Hogwarts as Miss-Insufferable-Know-It-All, House Elf Liberator and simply as H to my mysterious F.'

Fleur's hands slipped away from Hermione's to softly cradle the younger witch's face in her palms.

'I'm honoured to make your acquaintance. But zere is someone else I would like you to meet, 'Ermione,' Fleur's velvet voice was barely above a whisper.

'Who?' Curious chocolate eyes delved into those blue depths.

'My lips.'

And with that, F and H's lips finally met. Again. And Again.

And…(you guessed it right).

Again.

**-THE END-**

A/N: Thank you for taking the time to read my little spin o' yarn. Hope it was worth your while. Special thanks to Whistle the Silver (who is like the JKR of the Fleurmione fandom) and to IndiefoxProductions for reblogging this in their Tumblr.

Redjassy, thank you for being my personal cheerleader (_sa wakas, natapos din_). To those who reviewed the first chapter, thank you. You spurred me to make the second chapter longer than I intended.

For those who are looking for a longer, drawn out story (and drawn out kisses as well), feel free to read my other 'Peculiar' fic on my page.

If you liked this story or abhorred it, please review. My sleep deprived, wrought with work brain could use a smattering of your distracting thoughts. Thank you!


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